


of cafés, love and other clichés

by orphan_account



Category: Carmilla (Web Series), Glee
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, F/F, Glee - Freeform, Oops, band au, i kind of put in santana and brittany from glee, non-vampire au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-28 13:44:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2734754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She went to the cafe because LaFontaine made her and she was bored. She returned to the cafe every Friday since because she fell in love. Because Laura Hollis fell for Carmilla Karnstein when she first heard her sing, and Carmilla Karnstein fell for Laura Hollis the first time she said 'hey'.</p><p>Every fandom needs a band AU, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	of cafés, love and other clichés

**Author's Note:**

> useful note: try to listen to Tatiana Manaois's cover of Ed Sheeran's 'Wake Me Up' while you're reading. any mistakes are entirely my own.

It’s a Friday night and you’re bored.

You have about four essays to write, two books to read, and a _lot_ of stuff to revise for your exams, but yet all you’ve accomplished today is doodling a TARDIS and a Deathly Hallows sign at the end of your notebook. So you ditched pretending to study about half an hour ago and you’re scrolling through your Tumblr dashboard, reblogging photos here and there, the soft lull of your ‘Ed Sheeran + Coldplay’ playlist creating a perfect atmosphere in your dorm to do nothing.

So when LaFontaine barges in and tells you to get dressed, you feel obliged to tell them that you were “studying, thank you very much”, and they scoff and physically try to drag you out of your comfy computer chair.

“Hey!” You exclaim, taking a step away from them. They don’t notice, as they’re already ruffling through your closet.

“Come on, Laura, it’s a Friday night, you’re bored and doing nothing. Go out, live a little!” LaFontaine says, their voice coming somewhere from your closet. You think it over, and as if they can feel your hesitation, they throw in a casual, “Danny’s gonna be there too” and you may as well go because, well, you haven’t had the chance to talk to Danny outside of your Lit class for ages, ever since your mutual break-up (you’d agreed to stay friends, as it simply wasn’t working out for the two of you, and you’ve both made the effort, it’s just with the finals and everything, you haven’t seen her in a while and you miss her).

“Fine,” you say and LaFontaine turns around, grinning victoriously and holding up some of your clothes. They throw the clothes onto your bed. “Shower and I’ll meet you outside your dorm in half an hour, okay?” Before you can answer, they leave.

Half an hour later, you’re showered, dressed and ready to go. LaFontaine gave you some skinny jeans and one of your button-up shirts, which is casual enough and you approved, so you throw on your black Chucks and then there’s a knock on your door. LaFontaine is waiting outside, dressed in black pants with dark blue suspenders clipped onto them, and a light blue shirt. They have an easy grin as they tell you that you’re going to a cafe with some band playing live music. You shrug and nod easily.

At least you’re not gonna be bored anymore.

* * *

You’re standing outside of the cafe, the neon sign proclaiming the name of it to be _Moonlight Cafe_. It seems like a decent enough place, so when LaFontaine steps inside, you follow quickly. It’s a nice place, not too big but large enough to hold a substantial amount of people.

The lights are dimmed, and there’s some indie music playing on the speakers. You see Danny waving you from one of the tables, so you point LaF in that direction and you move around tables and booths until you’re finally there. It’s a secluded corner of the cafe with a clear view of the small stage, where there are already instruments lined up.

Danny stands up, and for a second you feel like Frodo standing next to Gandalf, but then she hugs you and you inhale the scent of the woods which she always seems to carry with her no matter where you are, and you hug her back and say a soft ‘hi’ when you part. She smiles at you and then turns to greet LaFontaine.

You all take a seat and then begin a light conversation in between yourselves. Danny’s laugh is contagious and whenever you or LaF tell a joke, you all end up laughing. Everyone is having a great time when several people take the stage. The tapping of the microphone brings everyone’s attention to the girl standing at the front of the stage.

And boy, is that attention well-deserved.

Her dark hair is wavy, falling around her shoulders, and she has an easy, lopsided grin on her handsome face as she looks over the crowd seated at the tables and in booths around the cafe.

She’s wearing black jeans, ripped at the knees with biker boots, and a tight black shirt underneath a red and black plaid shirt. Everything fits her perfectly and you kind of need to remember how to breathe because you think you haven’t done that since she stepped onto the stage.

Her band mates, you presume, start taking their places on the stage as well. A handsome-looking guy, maybe a year or two older than you, takes one of the two electric guitars and does a few scales to see if it’s tuned, while a Latina takes a seat behind the drum set and taps out a few quick beats on the hi-hat. A tall blonde with amazingly blue eyes takes the bass guitar and whispers something to the Latina on the drums, who laughs and nods.

You notice all of that in a few seconds before you return your eyes to the girl in the front, who now has an electric guitar in her hands as well, testing out a few simple chords. You can hear Danny and LaFontaine continue their conversation beside you, but you’re too taken with the singer to listen to them.

“Hello guys, we’re _The Madness Inside_ and we’ll be playing a few songs for you tonight.” She speaks and oh dear god, even her voice is perfect ( _snap out of it Laura, it kind of has to be, seeing as she’s the lead singer_ ).

The Latina counts off a beat and they start playing a song you vaguely recognise as one of the songs of that band, Fall Out Boy or something.

 _I’m gonna make you, bend and break_ , the girl sings and you have to try hard not to swoon. Her voice has a perfect husky note that gives the song life as she goes seamlessly through the verse and goes into the chorus. Her nimble fingers move perfectly over the neck of her black guitar, chords ringing out as her male bandmate backs her up with both his guitar and some backup vocals.

She’s looking at the audience intensely, stepping away from the microphone and nodding her head to the beat as she plays the chords through the bridge. Her dark chocolate eyes flit over everyone in the cafe, until they land on you.

You don’t know if you’re imagining it (wishful thinking and all that jazz), but you think her eyes rest on you a little bit longer than on everyone else.

She steps back up to the mic and continues to sing, ending on an impressive note. There’s applause and she grins. She takes off her plaid shirt and ties it around her waist, and it turns out that underneath she only has a tight black tank top, and you bite your lip because, sweet Merlin, no one should be that hot and flawless-looking.

Nodding to the drummer, who counts them off again, they start playing another song, this time from an Australian pop-punk band, Tonight Alive, which you know about because Danny played you a few of their songs when you were hanging out one day. LaFontaine is sitting back in their chair, relaxed, as they watch the show, commenting every once in a while on the song choice or the band. You wonder, for the first time that night, why they haven’t mentioned Perry once (seeing as you two can’t have a conversation without Perry being brought up at least five times), but you shrug mentally and make a mental note to ask them when the night is over.

Danny is nodding along to every song and sometimes even sings along, and you’re glad that she’s having a good time. She notices you watching and grins at you, mouthing ‘are you having fun?’ at you and you grin and nod. God, this girl is amazing. You’re glad to have a friend like her.

The night goes by quickly, and before you know it, it’s midnight and the singer girl is telling everyone goodnight and jumping off the stage. You realise that you’re thirsty since you’ve drained your Coke somewhere in the middle of the performance, so you stand up to stretch your legs and ask everyone if they want anything from the bar. At their ‘no’s, you shrug and walk up to the bar. A tall guy with a Zeta Omega Mu shirt grins at you and asks you what you want. You order a Coke and take a seat on one of the free bar stools as you wait for him to bring you your drink. You check your phone for a second to see the time, and when you look up again, you’re met with the grinning face of the lead singer.

God, she’s just as beautiful up close as she is from afar.

“Hey.” She says and you take a second to reply because it’s kind of hard forming words right now.

“Hey.” You respond and her grin becomes just a little bit bigger.

“I’m Carmilla, and you are?”

“Laura Hollis.” You reply and extend a hand. She chuckles and grabs it, and then leans down and presses her lips lightly to your knuckles. _Oh. My. God._

“Pleasure to meet you, cupcake.” Her voice is practically a purr, and you fight the urge to shiver. “Did you enjoy the show?” Carmilla asks as she hops onto the barstool next to yours. She waves down the bartender without looking away from you, and leans on the bar as she waits for your answer.

“Y-Yes, it was awesome.” You say, and mentally facepalm because who the hell stutters like that? She smirks.

“I’m glad you think so. So, Laura Hollis, where are you from?” She asks, and you barely notice the tall bartender placing your Coke in front of you. She orders a whiskey ( _a whiskey!_ ) and turns back to you.

“I’m from Chicago, but I’m studying here in Silas.” You say as you take a sip of your drink. She nods at your answer. “You?” You ask.

“Well, I’m from Austria, but my Mother moved here when I was young, so I guess you can say I’m from around here.” She smirks and leans on the bar as the bartender places her whiskey in front of her. You run a hand through your hair, and her eyes follow the movement. Then someone is calling her name and the Latina and the blonde from her band are approaching you, their hands clasped and their fingers interlocked.

“Whoa, who’s this?” The Latina asks as soon as she steps next to you two.

“Laura Hollis, and you are...?” You respond, crossing your arms. She smirks.

“Santana Lopez, the most badass drummer you’ll ever have the pleasure of meeting, and this is my girlfriend, Brittany.” She says as she removes her hand from the taller blonde’s and wraps her arm around Brittany’s waist. Brittany smiles and says a bright ‘hello’, to which you smile and nod.

Carmilla is watching silently before she clears her throat. “So, to avoid any embarrassment from these two,” she says, pointing at Brittany and Santana, and the Latina only smirks and raises an eyebrow, “I’ll be going now. I hope I’ll see you again, Laura. Next time, cutie.” She says and departs with a small wave and a wink thrown over her shoulder. You wave back, dumbfounded, and walk back to your table where Danny and Lafontaine are waiting for you.

“Do you want to finish your drink and then go home?” LaFontaine asks and you nod, guzzling down your Coke and standing up. Danny stands up as well.

“I’ll go back with you guys, I’m going in the same direction.” She says and you all take a cab home.

Once you’re showered and in your comfy pyjama pants, you lie on your bed and take your laptop, opening your browser and quickly going on YouTube. You type _fall out boy_ and open the first video in the results.

If you’re gonna have a crush on the lead singer of this stupid (awesome) band, you may as well educate yourself on the songs she sings.

* * *

The following morning, you meet LaFontaine for coffee, and you ask them cautiously about Perry and if something had happened between them the night before. Their jaw tightens, and they run a hand through their ginger hair before they breathe a deep sigh.

“I... yes. It was just the same old thing, she called me Susan last night again and I was already nervous because of the exams so I just...snapped, and then we started fighting and I said some things I really regret now, and... I think I really messed up this time, Laura.” They say and sigh again. You place a hand on their arm and squeeze once.

“Hey. It’s okay. So you messed up, it’s not a hard thing to fix. Talk it out with Perr; I’m sure she’ll forgive you. Maybe make you clean all your lab equipment twice as a punishment, but I’m sure she’ll understand and forgive you.” You say and they chuckle a bit before they nod and sit back in their chair.

“Thanks, L, I needed that.” They say and you smile.

“It’s in the job description of a best friend.” You say with a light laugh and LaFontaine laughs along.

You chat for a while, before suddenly they smirk and you don’t like that one bit.

“So, Laura, I saw you getting pretty cosy with that hot singer from last night.” They say and you can literally feel yourself blush, so you groan and hide your face in your hands, ignoring the loud laugh from LaFontaine.

“Her name is Carmilla, and we were just talking.” You say, the sentence muffled by your hands. LaFontaine snickers, and pushes on.

“Oh so that’s why you look like a tomato now, right, because you were just talking and you don’t have a crush on her at all. Come on, Laura, you didn’t take your eyes off her for one second during the show.” They say and you groan again. _Damn you, LaFontaine, for figuring me out so quickly!_

God, even your subconscious is dramatic.

“Okay, so maaaybe I feel slightly – _slightly!_ – attracted to her. So what? Any sane human being would, I mean have you seen her?” You ramble and LaFontaine smirks.

“Sure, keep telling yourself that, crushes-on-singers.”

“ _LaFontaine_!”

* * *

It’s a Friday again and you swear, if you see one more stack of notes, you’ll set them and yourself on fire, so you stand up from your desk, stretch and take a look around your room. It’s around half past seven, so you take a shower and find something decent to wear, and send LaFontaine and Danny a text asking them to go out with you.

They respond a few minutes later.

**From: LaF  
moonlight cafe, 8:15?**

**To: LaF  
sure. perr going too?**

**From: LaF  
i’ll ask her. meet u there**

**From: Danny  
Sure, I’ll meet you there in fifteen minutes.**

You nod to yourself and hail a cab to the cafe. You try to ignore a pang of nervous excitement at the possibility of seeing Carmilla again.

When you enter the cafe, there are fewer people than last time, so you sit at the table near the stage and wait for either Danny or LaFontaine to show up, and order an Iced Tea while you wait. Danny enters a few minutes after, so you wave her over and hug her hello. Chatting idly, time flies and soon, both LaFontaine and Perry are there as well, grins on their faces (Perry tries to hide it, but you still see it and you’re just happy they worked things out). Later that night, you see them holding hands and internally squeal. Finally!

Everyone’s attention is again dragged to the stage with a tapping of a mic. You turn your head and there’s Carmilla, sitting on a stool, in dark jeans, crisp oxford shirt and a vest, with black Chuck Taylors and a leather bracelet on her left wrist. She’s the only one on stage and she smiles at the audience as she leans a bit forward to speak.

“Hey guys. So the band sends their apologies because they couldn’t make it, but I’m here to substitute. I hope you don’t mind me playing some acoustic songs for you?” She asks and the people in the cafe cheer. She grins and softly strums her guitar a few times. “Well then, enjoy.”

Adjusting the microphone on its stand and tuning the guitar really quickly, she starts strumming and you recognise the song after a few moments as one of Coldplay’s, so you sit back and enjoy the show as her husky voice starts singing _Fix You_ softly, then _Let Her Go_ after that, and time passes by quickly.

And again, you two meet by the bar as she appears behind you just as you’re ordering your drink.

“You don’t seem like the type to listen to Passenger, Coldplay and Ed Sheeran.” You tell her once you’ve started chatting, and she laughs and says she really doesn’t listen to them, but that she has a set list filled with slow, romantic songs for nights when she has just her acoustic guitar and her own voice to do the performance.

She tells you that she really listens to punk rock and pop punk, and that that’s what she loves to listen to and play, so you nod and tell her that you really listen to everything (you neglect to mention that you’ve broadened your horizons because of her band’s performance the week before), and she smiles at you. You somehow start talking about your favourite books and she tells you that she likes poetry.

All throughout your conversation, she’s leaning towards you and listening attentively, even though she wears an indifferent mask most of the time. Every time she smiles and grins and lets out an emotion break through her facade, you smile and consider it a small victory.

Before you know it, it’s late and someone’s tapping your shoulder. You turn to see LaFontaine standing there, telling you that you need to go home because the cafe’s closing. You look at your wrist watch and indeed, it’s quite late, and you laugh nervously. LaFontaine tries to hide a grin and you know you’ll never hear the end of it.

So you reluctantly say goodbye to Carmilla, and she smiles easily and kisses your knuckles again, saying ‘goodbye, buttercup’ as she turns around and goes behind the small stage to collect her stuff.

Danny and Perry are waiting outside with a cab, so you jump in at the back seat, and chat with everyone, apologizing for disappearing like that. Danny waves you off from the passenger seat, saying that she’s glad you’ve met someone and you blush, trying to sink into your seat, as LaFontaine quietly snickers and even Perry lets out a chuckle.

Once you enter your dorm room, you check your phone and see that you have a message on it.

**From: UNKNOWN  
for the record, buttercup, i’m glad you came tonight.**

“Buttercup?” you read out loud. There’s only one person who’s ever called you that, so you cautiously send back a message.

**To: UNKNOWN  
Carmilla?**

The reply comes a few seconds later.

**From: UNKNOWN  
yep.**

**To: Carmilla  
how did you get my number?**

**From: Carmilla  
i have my ways.**

**To: Carmilla  
next time, just ask. and for the record, i’m glad i came too. **

All you receive in response is a smiley face and a ‘goodnight, cutie’.

You’re glad you’re alone in your room, because you kind of squeal into your pillow.

\---

LaFontaine’s already smirking when you meet them the following morning for your usual coffee.

You haven’t even properly sat down and they’re already opening their mouth to say something.

“So, how was your, uh, talk with Carmilla last night?” They ask, and you can almost hear the evil laugh you’re sure they’re having in their head at the moment.

“I don’t know, how was yours with Perry?”

“Um...”

“That’s what I thought.”

“You win this round, Hollis, but just you wait...”

* * *

Friday again.

 _Moonlight Cafe_ , again.

You meet the others at the cafe, and take a table near the stage. The band takes the stage, but this time Carmilla smiles at you from her place in front of the mic, before they start playing. You catch smirks from Santana sometimes in your direction, and Brittany gives you a little wave in between the songs, which you happily return.

After the gig is over and there’s once again indie music playing over the speakers, Carmilla approaches your table with her band in tow. Your friends seem surprised but welcoming as they scoot together so the band members could bring more chairs and take their seats. You find out that the guy from her band is actually her brother Will, and everyone starts chatting in between themselves. Santana and Brittany seem to have disappeared into their own little world, as they’re sitting close together, talking in hushed tones and Brittany giggles occasionally, and Santana is sporting a rather sly grin on her lips, so you really don’t want to get into that conversation.

Carmilla sits by your side all night.

You continue your conversation from the week before as if it was never interrupted or stopped. You can’t help but ask her again how she got your number, and she simply smirks and answers with “well I have to keep some of my secrets... otherwise I’ll lose my air of mystery, won’t I?” and your mind instantly stutters “ _was that...was she just flirting...?”_ and you tell yourself to breathe.

When you have to go, she once again kisses your knuckles, and leaves with her band.

On the ride home, everyone chats about the band, the hilarious sass and sarcasm of Santana, the naivety and hilarity that is Brittany, Will’s witty interruptions, and Carmilla’s sarcasm and dry humour.

It goes on for weeks, time passing by in a blur.

Every Friday you go to the _Moonlight Cafe_ , and you listen to _The Madness Inside_ perform, and then you all get together and just hang out and talk. Sometimes, the bartender, whose name is Brody Kirsch, joins you if it’s not a busy night. At first you found his behaviour crude, but then slowly he grew on you, like a really tall puppy. He and Danny have been spending a lot of time together, even though they got off to a bit of a rough start.

Carmilla and you get impossibly closer.

You had no idea it’s possible to get so close to someone even though technically you only spend about five hours a week with them. You text all the time, and she shares her favourite quotes from her favourite poems with you. In turn, you tell her about your favourite books and then blush when you realize you spent half an hour talking about your love for Harry Potter, and she simply smiles, and shakes her head, muttering ‘adorable’ under her breath.

She tells you a lot about herself, even though it had taken her a while to get there. She tells you how her Mother is kind of controlling, even though she thinks she’s doing it for Carmilla’s sake. She tells you that there was a period in her life where she constantly fought with Mother and Will, and even got a tattoo (you blushed when she teasingly started lifting her shirt as if to show you). She told you how she gets lost in her music sometimes, and how she loves meditation. How she’s a philosophy major at the local college because she always felt a pull towards philosophy, even from a young age. How she loves reading everything (even though poetry is her favourite) – from science and science fiction to romance novels, because she feels that there is a lot of stuff to be learnt from every piece of literature, no matter the genre.

In turn, you tell her about your over-protective father. How you took Krav Maga when you were a kid, and how you can now literally beat up a man without breaking a sweat. How your mother died when you were very young and no one could replace her, even though your Dad tried very hard and you love him for it. How you were a lonely kid because you read a lot and loved to lose yourself in the books and TV shows you watched (still do, in fact). How you fell from a tree once and broke your ankle, and you even have a scar to prove it. How you’d love to get a tattoo (she teases you and mentions your butt as a good position, to which you blush and hide your face in your hands, her sweet laugh ringing in your ears).

She flirts constantly with you and you can’t help but react to it. You feel a pull towards her, not just attraction or something superficial like that, but a deep pull, as if you were meant to be (it sounds cliché even in your head, but you can’t help but describe it like that). She acts tough around everyone else, but around you she lets her guard down and shows herself, every perfect and imperfect part of her that you’ve come to love.

You know an insane amount of things about her that you don’t even know _how_ you know, like the fact that she plays a lot of video games, and that she prefers tea to coffee in the morning because it wakes her up, and that she makes puppets for god’s sake (how does someone so adorable pass for someone so badass?), and that she loves to cook, and she can freakin’ waltz (who even knows how to waltz today?).

LaFontaine teases you constantly about her, but you can see that they only care about you and don’t want you to get hurt. You’re grateful for that, so you take no offense and tease them right back about Perry.

Life’s pretty good for you.

* * *

It’s a Thursday night and you’re lying in bed, freshly showered with a box of chocolate-chip cookies next to you and a book of Kipling’s poetry in your hands (Carmilla’s recommendation) when your phone beeps, signalling you have a text.

**From: Carm :)  
hey there, cupcake, just wondering if you’re coming to the show tomorrow?**

**To: Carm :)  
of course, when have i ever missed one?**

**From: Carm :)  
just checking. how are you liking Kipling? **

**To: Carm :)  
it has a giant black cat in it, Carm**

**From: Carm :)  
‘Black as the pit and terrible as the night was Bagheera’ yes, one of my favourites**

Of course she would know exactly which line you mean.

**To: Carm :)  
you are delightfully weird :)**

**From: Carm :)  
says you ;)**

**To: Carm :)  
good night, weirdo :)**

**From: Carm :)  
good night, cutie :)**

You shake your head at the phone, and sigh.

God, she’s so adorable and beautiful and one of your closest friends. And you love her.

You slap the book closed and move it and the cookies to your desk, pressing _play_ on your ‘night time’ playlist before you snuggle into your covers.

You fall asleep to the soft notes of _Saturn_ by Sleeping at Last.

* * *

You’re listening to _Enchanted_ by Taylor Swift on your way to the cafe, and of course, the image of Carmilla pops into your head with every line ( _God, I’m so pathetic_ ).

Giving the cabbie a few notes and telling him to keep the change, you exit the cab and enter the cafe. Danny and LaFontaine wave you over and you walk over to them. They’re at what’s now your usual table, but Carmilla and the others aren’t there, which is out of the ordinary, as they have taken a liking to spending their time with you before the show.

You shrug and take a seat, saying hello to Perry, LaFontaine and Danny. You chat idly when your phone beeps. You apologize to Danny with whom you’ve been talking and take your phone out of your pocket.

**From: Carm :)  
hey **

**To: Carm :)  
hey**

**From: Carm :)  
i have to ask you to do something for me**

**To: Carm :)  
depends on what it is, but okay**

**From: Carm :)  
i need you to play close attention to the last song tonight, okay?**

**To: Carm :)  
oookay? i will.**

**From: Carm :)  
good. i have to go now, we’ll talk later**

Well that exchange was not weird at all.

A few moments later, the band takes the stage, and Carmilla smiles at you, although it looks nervous and you’ve never seen her nervous, so you might be mistaking it for something else.

Santana’s smirk in your direction is as usual though, as is Brittany’s wave and Will’s nod, so you relax and sit back in your chair to enjoy the show.

They start off with Panic! At the Disco’s _Lying Is The Most Fun A Girl Can Have_ , and you know it right away because Carmilla’s been sending you songs lately (and God, you just realize how much you two have shared with each other already).

As usual, Carmilla strums the chords, and then she starts them off, and for the _n_ th time, your breath is taken away when her voice rings out. _Is it still me that makes you sweat? Am I who you think about in bed, when the lights are dim and your hands are shaking as you’re sliding off your dress_ , she sings, and it’s like she’s goddamn making love to that microphone because every syllable is dripping with sex.

They go through their entire set list (which has an unusual amount of sexual songs, you notice), and end with Jace Everett’s _Bad Things_ and then Will, Santana and Brittany take a bow and get off the stage, leaving Carmilla alone at the front. Kirsch brings her a stool and she takes her acoustic guitar, strumming it softly a few times, before plugging it in and taking a seat at her stool.

This has never happened before.

She clears her throat, and taps the microphone, which you know is her habit before a performance.

“Okay guys, tonight I kind of have something to say to someone. And I’m a philosophy major, but I’m shit with words.” Laughter rings out from several patrons, and she grins. “This is our _last song_ for tonight.” Carmilla says, looking meaningfully in your direction before turning back to the audience. “So here goes nothing.”

She plucks the strings gently, the notes ringing out clearly from her amp. **_I should ink my skin with your name_** , her husky voice sings, and you sit up in your chair.

No way. No freakin’ way is she doing what you think she’s doing. You glance to your right and see LaFontaine smirking and Danny grinning like mad. Perry’s squeezing LaFontaine’s hand and giving you an encouraging smile.

 ** _Take my passport out again, and just replace it_** , Carmilla continues, closing her eyes and changing chords easily. She sings and sings and when she reaches the chorus, she opens her chocolate eyes and looks right at you, and you feel like it’s that first night again, when your eyes connected for a few seconds and you felt like an electric current had passed through your body.

 ** _’Cause maybe you’re lovable, and maybe you’re my snowflake_** _,_ her voice rings out, and you feel it _everywhere_ , because it’s finally dawning on you that she doesn’t flirt with anyone else, and that no one else knows things about her that you do, and that she looks at you in a way that makes you tingle, and your hands grip the hand rests on the sides of the chair because you need to be grounded right now (you feel like a balloon, maybe you’ll float away if you let go).

 ** _And you should never cut your hair, 'cause I love the way you flick it off your shoulder_** _,_ Carmilla sings, and you unconsciously flick your hair off your shoulders and then blush when you realize what you’ve done and she smiles at you from the stage, **_And you will never know, just how beautiful you are to me, but maybe I'm just in love when you wake me up._**

You can’t take your eyes off of her, this beautiful being that’s doing the one thing you’ve always dreamed about since you knew what romancing was, and you look her over, from her stupid (beautiful) dark hair, to her goddamn (amazing) chocolate eyes, over her annoying (enticing) lips, to her weird (perfect) attire consisting of a punk rock shirt and ripped jeans and biker boots and that same plaid shirt from your first meeting tied around her waist, and that stupid leather bracelet around her wrist as her fingers move over the neck of her guitar, making a melody weep from the strings of the instrument.

She’s so goddamn amazing, and you can’t even put it into words how much you’re in love with her.

 ** _And would you ever feel guilty if you did the same to me? Would you make me a cup of tea, to open my eyes in the right way?_** _,_ Carmilla continues, a gentle smile on her lips because she knows you know what she’s singing about, and you _do_ , so you continue watching her, as she drives her point home with every line she sings, with every syllable she utters and every note that drags from her throat.

And when she finishes, the cafe rings out with applause because everyone could feel the emotions behind the song and the feelings behind the voice. You can hear Will and Kirsch whistling from beside the bar, and you hear Santana yelling “that’s how we do it in Lima Heights Adjacent, putas” and Brittany laughing beside her because what the frick frack is Lima Heights Adjacent?

Carmilla grins and places her guitar carefully in its case, before she jumps off stage and wanders out of the cafe. You’re still dumfounded, your hands still gripping the hand rests, still staring at the spot where she was sitting just a few seconds ago, until you feel a nudge and you turn to see Perry smiling at you. “Go after her, Laura.” She says and LaFontaine adds “go get your girl” so you snap out of it and run after Carmilla.

She’s leaning on the wall outside the cafe, and she barely looks down from the stars as you race out of the establishment. You stand in silence, neither one of you saying anything before she sighs.

“It’s comforting; to think how small we are in comparison to stars. All the lives we’ve led, the people we’ve been... nothing to that light. But you... you shine brighter than all of them combined, cupcake.” Carmilla utters and looks at you.

You’re openly crying now, happy tears because _goddamnit, you fell in love with such a sap_. “You are definitely a philosophy major.” You speak through your tears before you’re stepping into her space, gripping her neck and kissing her.

And all you can think is, _finally_.

And she immediately responds, her hands going to your cheeks and holding you in place, and you taste your tears on her lips but that’s okay, it’s grounding you and telling you that this is real, you aren’t imagining it, you’re not dreaming.

She turns you around and gently walks you back until your back hits the wall and your hands move from her waist to her butt and her tongue is dancing with yours and there are _sounds_ coming out of your mouth and then sounds coming out of hers in response, and it’s everything and nothing you’ve imagined and it’s somehow... perfect.

You part after an undetermined amount of time, and she presses her lips to yours once more, quickly, and leans her forehead on yours and stares into your eyes.

And then you chuckle and the spell is broken.

“What?” She asks, looking like a confused kitten with her tilted head.

“I thought you didn’t like Ed Sheeran.” You say and she lets out an incredulous laugh.

“Really, cupcake? Really?” She asks and takes your hand, intertwining your fingers and smiling fondly at you, wiping your tears with her other hand.

“I just never pegged you for a sap.” You say, and the face she makes is enough to send you into a laughing fit.

“Worst crush ever.” Carmilla drawls and kisses you again.

* * *

“Hurry up, Carm, we’re gonna be late!” You yell from the hallway as you’re putting on your shoes and coat.

“I know, that’s why I’m taking so long.” She drawls from the bathroom and you roll your eyes affectionately.

“Come on, you goof.” You say as she comes out of the bathroom, clad in a beautiful orange dress very similar to yours. She kisses your nose affectionately and mutters a “don’t worry” as she’s putting on her shoes.

You exit the house and lock the door behind you, throwing her the keys as she’s leaning on your car.

“Everything packed?” You ask, and she nods, listing it anyway because she knows you want her to confirm it. “Guitar, wedding gift, amp, microphones, cables, three cameras and four batteries – just in case, and a change of clothes. I think that’s it.” She says and you nod.

She starts the car and turns on the radio, and as you’re putting on your seatbelt, a familiar tune starts playing. Carmilla groans.

“Ugh, not this crap again.” She says, and you laugh. “Oh come on, if you didn’t like it, you wouldn’t have romanced me with it.” You say as you turn up the volume, Carmilla pulling out of your driveway. She groans again.

“I knew I should’ve played something by Fall Out Boy.” She drawls, but sings along anyway to Ed Sheeran’s _Wake Me Up._

About twenty minutes later, you’ve reached your destination and she gets out of the car first, opening your door and giving you a hand (even after all these years, she’s still got manners as if she was born in 1680s not 1980s).

You find your place next to Danny, and stand in between her and Carmilla, and say a few words to a nervous LaFontaine, while Kirsch and Will stand next to each other. The Wedding March begins soon after and you watch the bride walk down the aisle. She stands in front of you, and the Priest begins talking.

“Friends and Family of Lola Perry and S. LaFontaine,” he begins, “welcome and thank you for being here on this important day.” You feel yourself already tearing up. Stupid pregnancy hormones.

“We are gathered together to celebrate the very special love between Lola Perry and S. LaFontaine, by joining them in marriage.” You can already hear the bawling of the groom and bride’s parents. And you’re not doing any better.

The wedding goes without a hitch. A couple of hours later, when Carmilla and the band are taking a break from playing and the DJ is taking their place, you stand up and give a request to the DJ, to which he nods and gives you a thumbs up.

A few songs later, a soft strumming of the guitar is heard and couples pair off to slow dance. Carmilla’s already making her way to you, passing a hugging Brittany and Santana on her way, and offering you a hand.

“May I have this dance?” She asks and you smile, answering with “you may” and take her hand.

“You know, I still think our wedding was better.” Carmilla whispers in your ear and you chuckle.

“Of course you do, you softie.” You answer and she scoffs. “I’m no softie,” she says, “I’m a badass rock star, Laura Hollis-Karnstein, and there is nothing you can say or do to prove it otherwise.” She finishes with a smirk. You laugh.

“Sure I can.” You say and kiss her, and she immediately melts in your arms, and you smile into the kiss and pull her tighter.

And here, in her arms, you feel like you belong.

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys, sorry if this story is shit, i'm sleep deprived and haven't proof-read this.  
> anyway, this was initially a 500-word ficlet, but then it grew and grew and now it's got over 6k words. oops.  
> every good fandom needs a band au, right? the list of the songs i used and/or mentioned in this fic are:
> 
> Fall Out Boy - Thanks For The Memories (or Thnks Fr Th Mmrs)  
> Coldplay - Fix You  
> Passenger - Let Her Go  
> Panic! at the Disco - Lying Is The Most Fun A Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off (that's a mouthfull)  
> Jace Everett - Bad Things  
> Ed Sheeran - Wake Me Up


End file.
